Venture out into the World
by Bookworm1986
Summary: The year is 2029. Who knows what gadgets might be occupying Uncles Max and Virgil, but she is occupied by something that withstands the fashions.
1. Familiar

Disclaimer - I do not own Homeland. That pleasure belongs to Showtime. No copyright infringement or money making scheme intended. This is purely for reading enjoyment.

A/N One shot for the moment. May turn into something more.

* * *

**31 October 2029**

Pumpkin Lanterns adorn gardens, kids in various costumes are talking in excited voices over each other as they move from door to door seeking candy. There is a kid dressed up as a Storm Trooper. It was so good that she had a hard time seeing where the costume ended and the kid started. Her uncle Max would either be impressed with the costume or mad a kid was in possession of one better than his. She amused herself for a few moments at the thought of his various reactions. The smile soon slips off her face as she watches Storm Trooper kid lead a group of children up the garden path to the door of the house she has been watching. A tall man with black hair and a friendly face with an even friendlier smile opens the door. She watches as he squats down to the same level as the children to interact with them. The sound of childish giggling fills the air as he talks to them and she cannot help but wonder if he would have made her laugh like that too.

Her phone rings again as it has been ringing every couple of minutes for the last half hour, but she does not answer knowing who it is likely to be. She knows she is in deep shit and will likely be grounded from now until Christmas, but she doesn't care. She has a decision to make. She didn't arrange for her friends to tell lies to hide her plan and come all this way to chicken out especially not after the months it has taken her, but the self-assurance she had felt previously seems determined to desert her at the crucial moment. She had been thinking only of the two of them and she hadn't considered much else. Like the fact that today happens to not only be Halloween, but someone's birthday judging by the banners on the front door. She hadn't considered that he would have children of his own, but he does. Twin boys by the look of them when she'd seen their mother take them out trick or treating earlier. They had seemed hyper enough to her already. Adding candy to the mix seems like a bad idea. There is also the one thought she has been trying to ignore throughout her research and throughout her journey here. That maybe he wouldn't want anything to do with her. She is certain he doesn't know about her. 8 months ago she had been certain of her identity and her place, but that has been turned on its head. Lost in her thoughts she does not see the children disperse from number 12 and doesn't see his eyes find her.

* * *

The children's faces split with grins as their heavy bags full of candy weighed them down. They don't seem to mind as they turn and retreat from his door and back up the garden path. Looking up he notices the girl he had seen earlier that day. At first he had thought he was just being paranoid that she was watching their house, but as he'd been answering the door to various children she was to be found sitting on the park bench that faces his front door. She probably thought she was far enough away that no one in the house would notice her surveillance of them, but life had taught him to be especially paranoid. He'd found an area where people were happy enough to let him be, but he was under no illusions that there were still people out there who would hurt him or his family. 8 months ago the world saw fit to remind him of the ghost that still haunts his family and there are politicians willing to use that ghost to their own advantage.

He walks slowly down his path toward the park just across from his house. His concern now twofold. Concern of who this girl might be and concern, as a father, that she is out here on her own and has been for a while. He knows she is not local. She is a teenager who should have been in School and he wonders would they use a teenager to do their dirty work. He honestly wouldn't put it past them. She seems to be looking right at him in that moment, but he knows she hasn't seen him. She is far away, lost in her own thoughts. He stops just outside the garden path and considers for a second that she may not be alone. He does not cross towards the park immediately, but stays on his side of the road until he is parallel with the hedges inside the park gates on the opposite side of the road. He looks round at every person and every car and sees nothing.

* * *

Standing up quickly she makes the decision before she can talk herself out of it again. The children out trick or treating have moved further down the street and their voices are just echoes in the wind now. Out of the park, across the road and up the garden path. She finds herself standing where the children had been earlier. She rings the bell and waits. A minute or two passes and there is no answer. She is even more nervous now than before and can feel the tension in her own body. Her palms are sweating and her whole body seems full of nervous energy. She bounces from foot to foot unable to remain still. Still there is no answer and the thought that he'd seen her, worked out who she is and isn't opening the door because he doesn't want anything to do with her crosses her mind. That couldn't be possible because she is certain he knows nothing about her. But she isn't done arguing with herself as a voice inside her head points out that _'he is in so why isn't he answering the door'_. Suddenly infuriated, she turns away from the door and aims a kick at one of the lanterns on her way out.

* * *

He continues around the perimeter of the park until he is satisfied that there is no surveillance team and enters it from the opposite side to approach where the girl is sitting. As he gets there he sees that she is gone. He scans the length of the park, but there is no sign of her. Turning back towards his front door his breath catches as he sees the girl standing there. Walking quickly he sees the agitation evident in her as she waits for the door to be answered. As he closes in, she turns to leave and he hears a grunt of frustration which she expels by kicking one of his lanterns over.

"Was that really necessary?", he asks.

The girl gasps and stops and though she meets his eyes, now seems unable to move.

The light shining from his porch and remaining lanterns allows him to see her more clearly. He'd noticed her red hair earlier, but lots of people have red hair. He notices her blue eyes. Lots of people have blue eyes too. There are some things you just know. There's not really any way to explain how you know. You just do once it is put in front of you and it is like you always have known. He knows that there can't be many with people with red hair and blue eyes would have any reason whatsoever to sit outside his house all day, watching him.

"What's your name?", he asks, but she does not answer. She appears to be shocked to find herself standing in front of him. A phone rings and he assumes it must be hers because it isn't his. She doesn't move.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

She shakes her head, "it'll be my mom or aunt Maggie and they'll be mad."

"Still, maybe you should answer so they know that you are ok."

"They don't know I've been looking for you. I…I…I hid it well. In one of the presents uncle Max gave me for my 16th birthday. Mom'll kill him if she realises." She lets out a nervous chuckle that gives Chris the impression poor uncle Max gets the blame for everything.

The girl still seems surprised to be standing in front of him. She just stares for a few moments taking in the sight of him as though trying to convince herself that he is real. Chris begins to feel a bit uncomfortable, but doesn't want to rush her.

She shakes her head suddenly as though trying to clear it of a fog. "Frannie, my name is Frannie Mathison", she says quickly. "And I think you're my brother", she finishes eyes wide and expressive, excited and fearful all at once.

Chris tries not to let the tumult of emotions he feels at the name Mathison show on his face. He supposes this is how some people feel whenever they hear the last name Brody and goodness knows he knows how it feels to be judged on the actions of a parent. He would never wish that on any child never mind one he suspects he might be related to.

"You better come in."


	2. Collate and Collide

Disclaimer - I do not own Homeland. That pleasure belongs to Showtime. No copyright infringement or money making scheme intended. This is purely for reading enjoyment.

Indigo – hover boards LOL. Thank you for your review. I love the thought of her tracking down Chris/Dana.

Zarqa – thank you for the review. The idea came formed with it being Chris she finds. Now, I have to say I wish I'd thought of doing it with Brody, but alas the muse is working around Chris.

Luckyu – no problem. Many thanks for reading and reviewing.

Shockey13 – Thanks as ever, Shockey.

LilMisfit – Thanks for the review. I am so glad you picked up on the kick. I put it in there as a way to highlight she is like Carrie in some ways. I'm in the miss Brody club with you.

Cdub77 - thanks for the follow.

A/N Carrie is on her way…

* * *

Carrie still couldn't get used to a phone that is attached to her wrist. Nor could she get used to that irritating voice that let you know if you have an incoming call whilst you are trying to dial out. Looking at the screen, she sees it is from Max. Feeling especially stupid she tells her phone to end the call to Frannie and pick up from Max.

"What have you got?", Carrie demands.

She has moved out of the Park area we told you about earlier and she is now in a house, 12 Liberty Park Drive. I'm sending you…Fara, no! Don't do that. Dad's talking…"

"In a house? Who the fuck lives there?", Carrie demands, ignoring whatever drama Max has with his daughter who he named after their lost friend.

"I'm working on it just now. Just another 30 seconds or so", Virgil answers this time. "Route should be showing up now on your MAV NAV."

"What the fuck is taking so long?", Carrie asks impatiently ignoring the look Maggie is giving her from the driver's seat.

"This isn't as easy as it used to be you know particularly since we can't count on the limited friends we used to have at Langley to bail us out if we get caught."

"Fuck me", Carrie hears Virgil's voice in the background.

"What? What is it?", She asks worried.

"Um", Virgil hesitates clearing his throat. "The registered owners of the house she is in are Christopher and Evelyn Brody."

Carrie feels a tightening in her chest of the realisation of a day long feared. How ironic it comes when she had least expected it. "Thanks", she manages to stutter out to Virgil, before hanging up.

"You, ok?", Maggie asks concerned.

"I..uh…don't know. Maybe it is a good thing you insisted on driving." Carrie stares out of the passenger side window afraid that she might be about to lose her daughter.

* * *

Frannie finds herself being ushered into a warm and comfy looking sitting room. One of the walls is adorned with photos and she finds herself drawn to it. Chris stands back and allows her to look at the photos herself. She's looking at photos of family she never knew she had so he gives her space.

The ringing of her phone breaks the silence. She takes it out of her pocket, but seems afraid to answer.

"Do you want me to answer it?", he asks giving her the easy way out.

She nods her head and turns around and hands it to him. "Thank you", she whispers so quietly Chris just hears her. Taking the phone from her he sees the caller ID says Mom.

"Hello."

"Chris?", the voice is disbelieving.

"Yes, that would be me", Chris replies.

"It's Carrie…"

"I'd guessed that", Chris interrupts. Frannie is fine. She just didn't want to answer her phone." He watches Frannie staring intently at the photos.

"Because she knows she is in big trouble", Carrie's angry voice meets Chris's ear. "And you? Why didn't you phone me earlier to tell me where she is?", she turns her anger on him.

"Maybe because she only turned up on my doorstep 10 minutes ago", Chris answers barely containing his own anger.

"We tracked her phone and will be there in about an hour."

"Fine." Chris hangs up without waiting for a reply. He's unsure how to feel about his sister seeking him out, but the impending arrival of Carrie Mathison made him ill at ease.

"They'll be here within an hour. Tracked your phone."

Frannie snorts as Chris comes back into the sitting room, "probably got uncle Virgil and uncle Max to do that. I knew she would when I didn't come home from School."

"How did you manage to stay under the radar all day?"

"Got my friends to help", she shrugs in reply. She glances at the wall and then back at Chris, "can I ask you a question?"

Chris is tempted to say that depends on the question, but reigns himself in and nods his head. "Is that the only photo of dad you have?", she points to the picture of himself (as a baby) with Dana, his mom and dad.

It feels weird to Chris to hear this girl he doesn't know call their dad, dad as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Noting that she is patiently waiting for an answer Chris moves to stand beside her. "No. It's not the only one. I have more. They're just not up here." He didn't want to say that they were hidden away in an old trunk up in the loft where he didn't have to see them or think about the reminders they brought. "It's not the only of him up here though." He sees the surprise on Frannie's face as she turns to look again. Chris isn't shocked when she can't find it. He points it out to her. "It was taken the day he was born. That's Grandpa and Grandma Brody holding him."

"Are they…?" Frannie trails off, but Chis knows what she is trying to ask.

"Grandpa died before I was born and Grandma…", Chris hesitates. He has no clue what her mother has or hasn't told her. "Grandma died when I was seven."

Chris hears the front door opening and the loud voices of his sons.

"Be back in a minute", he says to Frannie.

"Woah", Chris grabs a hold of his two boys in the hall before they can charge in to the sitting room.

"Daddy, look at the sweets we got", they speak in tandem, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

"Ye. I see. Enough that I won't have to buy you any at Christmas."

"Daddy", Eoighann begins exasperated. "That is not funny", Aiden finishes.

Chris struggles to keep a straight face at the expression on his boys' faces.

"Why don't you two give mom the sweets and go up and get stripped for your bath? You can have one sweet each after your bath. Mommy will be up in a minute."

His sons stare between him and their mom for a few seconds before Aiden grabs Eoighann and pulls him towards the stairs, a disgusted look on his face. "I think they're going to kiss", he whispers audibly to Eoighann.

Chris barely contains his laughter and he sees the twinkle in his wife's eyes. He takes his wife's hand and pulls her down the other end of the hall away from the sitting room.

"So we are going to kiss, Mr Brody, are we? Pulling me into a dark corner?"

Chris ignores his wife's advances and sees the sparkle in her eyes disappearing. He grabs hold of both of her hands for comfort.

"What's wrong?", she asks searching his eyes.

"We have a guest, honey."

"Oh, who is it?"

Chris isn't really sure how to explain this. A nervous disbelieving chuckle escapes him, "my sister."

"Dana's here? Why didn't you say? She'll think I'm being ignorant". Evelyn moves to pull away, but Chris stops her. "No. Not Dana. My other sister that I didn't know about until she walked through the door." His wife looks as stunned as he feels. He couldn't leave Frannie out there by herself and his instinct initially as a father had taken over, but now he's inside, she's his sister and Carrie Mathison would soon be stepping through his front door.

"Um. How do you know she's your sister?"

"She's definitely his. No doubting that…and her mother is on her way here to get her."

"Right, ok. Well, I can get the boys quickly bathed and then come down and organise some tea and biscuits."

"No!", Chris says sharply and sees his wife raise her eyebrow in question at him. "Sorry, it's just…", Chris sighs, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what is going to happen with Frannie. I don't want to spook her with the boys who will fire 20 questions at her or start introducing her if her mother is going to be difficult."

"You think she will be?", Evelyn asks, curiously.

"I know who her mother is and she's the sort of person who makes decisions for others. So, yeah I do. Being perfectly honest she's not anyone I want you or the boys knowing which would make any relationship with Frannie difficult."

"What's so bad about her?", Evelyn asks.

Chris hesitates wondering where to begin.

"Chris this woman, according to you, will be stepping into our house soon where our children are. If there is something so awful about her, I deserve to know."

"I know. I do, but I can't explain right now. Not with Frannie just up the hall. It's all very complicated and I'm sure Frannie is rather fond of her mother even if I'm not."

Evelyn stares at him for a few seconds. "Fine. I'll keep the boys upstairs, but if they fall asleep and our guests are still here I'm coming back down."

"Ok", Chris relents knowing it would do no good to argue. Frannie would be missing him by now anyway.

"It's too quiet isn't it?", Evelyn asks as they walk back up the hall.

Chris nods his head.

"Goodness knows what the two of them will be up to. I told you we should have named them Fred and George."

Chris chuckles as he and his wife part at the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

Chris tries to compose himself as he re-enters the sitting room but his stomach is churning.

Frannie is sitting down on the floor in front of the wall with the photos. She turns round as she hears Chris's footsteps. "So, I have two nephews?"

Chris sits down next to her. "Three. You actually have three and a niece. Dana has a boy and girl. I take it you know who Dana is?"

"Yes, but I hit a wall trying to find her."

Chris isn't at all surprised about this. There was a period for a few years where she barely stayed in contact with him and their mom until she met Mark and he encouraged her not to give up on the family she had left.

"Ye, she moved about quite a lot for a while, but she's settled now with Mark, that's her husband and their two kids, Casey and Calleigh. Chris gets to his feet and Frannie follows suit. Chris points out the photo of Dana and her family and then his own. "That's my wife Evelyn and that's our two, Aiden and Eoighann. They're a handful."

Frannie nods her head, but Chris can see that something is troubling her. "You don't want them to meet me?", she asks sadly.

Chris could curse Carrie Mathison upside down for all the pain she's caused. Even when she's not in the same room she manages to be a road block.

"Why don't we sit down?", Chris motions to Frannie to move to the sofa. "You can take your jacket off you know." Frannie hesitates for a second before joining Chris on the sofa and taking her jacket off. "It's not that I don't want you to meet them. They'd come in here and fire questions at you that neither you nor I would have the answers for right now. I don't want them to make you uncomfortable. They wouldn't meant to of course, but they're 5. They have no filter. You understand?"

Frannie shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly.

"What has your mom told you about dad, about me and Dana?"

"Next to nothing", Frannie answers and Chris hears the resentment in her voice.

"So, how did you know who to look for?"

"I didn't until I saw the news 8 months ago. That is when I realised he is my dad. Mom had a bad day…a few bad days after that news report. I found her passed out with a photo of him clutched in her hand. She wouldn't tell me anything. Clammed up on me. Told me to forget about him as if I could when there was suddenly all this talk about him."

'Forget him.' Chris felt as though someone was poking at him with a hot stick. Stoking up a fire.

"Do you know how they met?", Frannie looks at him with hope and Chris hates to be the one to dampen it. He doesn't want to lie, but not knowing what she knows about her mother or their father makes it difficult for him to answer. "No. I'm afraid you'd need to ask your mom that one."

"That's what I thought", she sighs in defeat.

They fall into silence though it is not uncomfortable. Frannie seems to be pondering what to ask next. Chris takes the time to appraise his sister. Her wavy red hair came down to just past her shoulders, but it is the eyes that get him. As a child, Chris had stared at photos of his father, the man people called a hero, wondering if he'd ever see the real thing. The sad thing is he never really did because the eyes of the man that came home held none of the warmth of the one in his pictures. But here in this girl were those eyes. Chris turns away before he is overwhelmed. It had been a long time since Chris realised he'd never needed a hero. He'd just needed his dad. It is what makes him hug his own two that bit longer at night time while they would still let him.

"I was wondering…", Frannie starts, but stops again seeming uncertain about asking.

Chris finds those blue eyes again holding a thousand questions, but observing him closely, looking between his own two eyes as though trying to work out whether it is ok or not. "What is it?", he asks, not because he is particularly eager to drag up the past, but because he knows that not knowing a part of yourself sucks especially when you are a child/adolescent.

"He wasn't the Langley Bomber. That's what they are saying now."

Chris nods his head. "He didn't blow up Langley."

"Why did he…uh", for the first time Chris sees Frannie's composure slipping to be replaced with confusion and something he knew all about. The feeling of being abandoned. In this moment, she seems every bit the child she still is. "Why did he make that video?"

Frannie nods her head.

Chris had no idea how to explain it to her or even if he should. Before he can answer the doorbell rings.

Frannie screws up her face and mumbles, "there goes that."

* * *

Chris approaches the front door trying to quell the nausea he feels rising in his stomach and push away the anger threatening to rise from the souls of his feet to the top of his head. He opens the door to find two woman on his doorstep. The brown haired woman standing behind Carrie, he assumes, is her sister.

"Hello, Chris", Carrie says.

Chris notes she looks much the same as the last time he saw her which also happened to be what he hoped it would have been. She had arrived at their house to bring them horrible news with the air of superiority that government agents possess, convinced she was doing them a favour. He'd soon put her right on that much to her, his mother and Dana's surprise.

He stands aside to allow them in, not trusting himself to speak.


	3. The lost plot

Disclaimer - I do not own Homeland. That pleasure belongs to Showtime. No copyright infringement or money making scheme intended. This is purely for reading enjoyment.

Lilmisfit – thank you so much. Next update is here. Only thing is Frannie and Co aren't in this chapter.

A/N this inclusion is inspired by something said in S1.

* * *

**October 31 2029**

"Refill, right here."

"Another double?", the bar tender asks.

Craig ponders the question. He'd already had a double. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to have another.

"Hey turn the TV up", someone shouts over the din of the bar. Craig turns around to see what is going on.

_Newsflash_

_MVTV_

_This is Louise McInnes, reporting on events from Iran. Sources are confirming the Assassination of Javid Javadi, the head of the IRCG. Approximately 3 hours ago in Tehran, Javid Javadi was gunned down. The streets of Tehran are full of civil unrest and the city is being locked down. No one has yet claimed responsibility for the assassination and fingers are already being pointed at the United States. Relations between the two countries have been civil for several years now, but following the revelations of 8 months ago that relationship has been hanging by a thread. Today someone has cut that thread and..._

The bar comes alive with the buzz of conversation as everyone attempts to talk over each other and gossip about what they'd just heard. Craig turns away from the TV back to the bar tender, "the more shit changes. The more it stays the same. We don't learn our lessons. So fucking fuck it and hit me with a double."

"Never a truer word spoken."

Craig does not immediately look up. He recognises that voice, but he hasn't heard it in 16 years. Well, that's not true. He'd seen her on the TV plenty doing interviews and shit. But he hadn't had anything to do with her in 16 years.

The bar tender slaps down his drink and Craig pays the man.

"What the fuck do you want, Kelly?", he finally looks at her.

"Charming as ever."

Craig snorts. "What were you expecting? Me to roll out the red carpet?"

"So, this is what you do now? Wallow in self-pity at the bottom of a glass?", she asks scathingly.

"Did you come here just to mock how far I've fallen because if you did you can fuck off right now! Some of us have 14 hour shifts to look forward to."

"I came here to offer you a chance to finish what you started", Kelly answers seriously.

"What in the fuck are you…", Craig is interrupted by Kelly throwing a manuscript down in front of him. He recognises it immediately. He stares at it knowing what it is. He hadn't looked at it in a long time.

"You are fucking shitting me right?"

"No. This is very serious."

"Fucking unbelievable", he says in disgust. "You know I've done some soul searching over the past several years. What have you been doing? Do you see that news report? Do you even understand what the fuck it means? You want to do this now? Go take a flying fuck to yourself." He pushes the manuscript back towards her.

Kelly does not flinch at his words or his tone. In her line of business, there was a star throwing a strop every day on some fucking set somewhere. "Understand this, Craig. I don't have a say in it."

Craig snorts in disbelief.

"Doubt me all you want. Do I know what that news report means? Yeah, actually I do. It means a lot of innocent people are going to die and a lot of others will be running around covering their asses and making excuses for it. Who knows maybe 20 years from now their families will get the truth!"

Craig looks back at her sharply her words striking a particular chord.

"What about his family?"

"Won't be a problem", Kelly spits the words out, her own distaste at the situation now evident to Craig.

"What do you mean? Don't they get a say?"

"They lost their say in anything on May 19, 2003", she sighs rubbing her eyes. Look, I have had a shitty fucking week. I know that you are right to be pissed at me and hate me. I will fucking beg you if that is what you want from me."

Craig could never remember seeing her so deflated and admittedly there were times following the total collapse of his career where her begging him back had vindictively crossed his mind and usually ended with him telling her no, but he could tell she is genuinely upset.

"I've seen some of the names they have put together to write it and I am not having those cheesy hacks all over it. Do you think it is a coincidence that the new President wants to dump everything on the old administrations? He comes out smelling of roses. A nation repenting. People queuing up to hail the Brody family again. It is like you say. We don't learn our lessons. Do you think for a second any of his family will welcome this intrusion? Of course they won't, but the bureaucrats have them back in their sights. The reason I wanted you to write the script for me all those years ago is because you are one of the most open minded people I've ever met in my life. The fact you have an interest in psychology made you an even better candidate. That is what we needed then and it is what we need now. I can already sense the intention to turn him into a fucking cartoon American war hero. Whatever he was or was not post captivity, the man who suffered in a hole for 8 years deserves more respect that. His family deserve more respect than that." Kelly takes a deep breath and pushes the unfinished manuscript back to him.

Craig sees the sincerity in her eyes as she looks at him directly. "Please think about it. I know it is a lot to ask, but I need you on this. This is going to happen whether you or I like it or not and I'd rather have you because I trust you to do it right."

Craig lifts up the manuscript. "When do you need an answer?"

"48 hours."

Craig laughs.

"I know! I know!", Kelly says. "I need to go, but think about it and call me."

Kelly hands Craig her card with her number on it and he watches her leave. He traces his fingers over the front page. To do it would feel like opening a can of worms, but if as Kelly says, it is going to happen anyway he'd rather he finished the script he started rather than watch someone hack it to pieces and come up with a load of shit.

He'd need to review everything he'd already written and do a lot more research.

Opening up to the contents page, he traces the title with his fingers, 'The price of our Freedom'. "Well, Sergeant Brody", Craig whispers to himself, "looks like you're going to get that movie after all."


End file.
